


Never Stand Alone

by Ashynarr



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashynarr/pseuds/Ashynarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or: Five times others defended Alfred, and One where he defends himself just as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Stand Alone

[1]

"You don't have to do this, you know," Alfred mumbled, sneezing again and groaning miserably at the aches of his struggling economy. The last time he'd felt this horrible was during the Revolution, but at least then he'd been fighting for a cause.

This was just misery, plain and simple, and it was a wonder he was still managing to crawl out of bed every day while he was like this. He probably wouldn't have if Toris hadn't been there, powering through his own fatigue to help around the house.

The Lithuanian smiled, setting the bowl of soup out in front of him. "But I want to - you've been a good host to me, so it's only fair I pay you back."

"You're way too nice," Alfred sighed, slowly starting to eat and perking up at the flavor. "Hey, this is good!"

"It's a recipe from my place," Toris smiled, sitting down with his own bowl. "I didn't want to stretch your food too much right now, so I figured this was safe enough."

"It's fine, really," The American assured his friend, taking another spoonful to prove it.

Someone knocked on the front door. Alfred set down his spoon, frowning as he turned towards it. "What's he doing here?"

"Who is it, Mr. America?" Toris asked, concerned as his friend pushed himself up and made his way to the front hall.

He didn't respond, opening the door with a bit more force than necessary to scowl at the visitor. "Russia."

"Amerika," The older Nation greeted just as coolly, never dropping his smile. "It's very rude to leave a guest on the front step waiting, you know."

"You aren't a guest," Alfred replied flatly. "What do you want?"

"Ah, I have come to see one of my favorite little friends!" Russia clapped his hands together. "Is Toris in right now?"

The American heard a shuffle of feet and turned his head to see Toris hovering in the kitchen doorway. "Oh, hello Mr. Russia…"

"There you are!" The Russian man greeted cheerfully. "I haven't seen you in many years - I was starting to think you were avoiding me!"

"I've been really busy helping Mr. America," Toris replied carefully. "So I haven't had much time to go back to Europe since the trip is so long."

"That's a shame; I enjoy your company very much," Russia frowned, then smiled again. "But we have plenty of time to speak now, since you are not doing anything too important."

"I-" Toris hesitated, allowing Alfred to step back in.

"You don't have to go anywhere with him if you don't want to, Toris," He comforted, turning back to Russia. "I can't blame you for wanting to avoid this guy, honestly."

"How rude," Russia replied, no longer smiling. "And here I was, politely offering him some time away from a manchild like you. Do you need your nursemaid that much, Amerika?"

Alfred's fists clenched, ready to throw a snarling string of insults (courtesy of a few fun months with Lovino as a guest), only to be surprised when Toris stepped forward to stand beside him.

"Mr. America has been nothing but a gracious host to me while I've been here," The Lithuanian told Russia, who was staring back at him with some surprise. "And he only asks for my help when he has too much to do to finish it all himself. He's one of the most responsible Nations I've ever met, even if he can be a bit childish sometimes, and I admire him for it!"

Alfred gaped a bit, having rarely seen this more forward side of his friend, while Russia's face creased in confusion.

"He is still the cause for the ache he and Europe are going through," The taller Nation commented. "Do you consider that responsible?"

"How could anyone have known things would crash this badly?" Toris replied. "And Mr. America wasn't the only one who reached too far, so blaming him alone is ridiculous. Besides, he's been trying harder to fix things than anyone else."

Russia's lips were pressed together thinly now, glaring at Alfred as if he were to blame for Toris' rebellious streak.

(Really, the American only wished he could take credit, but in this case it had nothing to do with him. Not that he wasn't enjoying it, but still.)

"You have to come back to Europe someday; you have been slacking in your duties."

"I'll go back when I'm ready," Toris replied shortly. "Until then, my people can look after themselves. Good day, Mr. Russia."

The Lithuanian closed the door, taking a deep breath before turning to Alfred with wide eyes.

Alfred, for his part, was starstruck. "That was one of the most awesome things I've ever seen."

Toris laughed weakly, rubbing his arms. "Thank you, Mr. America…"

"Hey, I thought I told you to call me Alfred!"

"You have, Mr. America."

Alfred gave him a look, which was weakened by the grin he was still wearing. "One of these days I'll get you to use my name, just so you know."

Toris smiled back. "Maybe."

[2]

"Sorry I'm late guys, had some last minute things I had to clear up with Ben," Alfred greeted as he entered the Allied meeting room for this month. "Oh, hey Lovino."

"Hey Alfred," The Italian greeted back, sitting rather awkwardly next to Ivan, who fortunately had switched his target of focus to the newcomer. "You haven't missed anything important."

"We were discussing uniform designs," Francis huffed, drawing a sour look from Arthur.

"Like I said, nothing important," Lovino repeated, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Well if everyone could be counted on to arrive on time, we wouldn't have to listen to him prattle on about useless subjects," Arthur commented under his breath, drawing amused chuckles from several others while Francis glared at his rival and Lovino and Matthew sighed.

Alfred ignored it, sitting down in his seat and waiting for Arthur to start the meeting. There was no point in getting into a fight here when the entire point was to focus themselves on the enemy, and he wasn't in the mood anyways.

"Now that we're all here-" Arthur shot a look his way. "-let's go over our current statuses, then move onto our next strikes against the Axis. Russia, how are things for you?"

"Prussia is not enjoying the cold very much," The Soviet Nation smiled. "I think if he keeps trying to push into my lands he will soon be meeting the General."

"Right," Arthur shivered, turning to the next Nation. "Egypt?"

On and on it went, around the line, and since he'd already glanced over all of this information before coming here, he amused himself by trying to figure out what percentage of the Nations here were part of England's empire. Maybe after this was over he could push for all of them to gain independence - he doubted anyone in Europe would have enough cash to seriously hold onto them, and it could generate some goodwill with the Nations in question.

"America?" Arthur asked, drawing Alfred out of his thoughts and back to the current situation.

"Oh, right," He grinned, kicking back in his seat. "Ben says the next supply and troop shipments will be over as soon as the weather blows over - he doesn't wanna risk things getting sunk, so they might be a few days late if they can't make up the time on the way over."

"That wouldn't be the first time," The English Nation sighed under his breath, and Alfred bit his cheek to keep from snapping back.

He wasn't stupid - he knew damn well how the others felt about him joining the fight as late as he had. Even Matthew, his brother and best friend, admitted to wishing the American had joined up a bit sooner, but completely understood why he hadn't. Which, honestly, Alfred could understand too, and said as such, but the rest of these guys-

Urgh.

"Hey, England?" Lovino asked, raising a hand lazily.

"Yes, Romano?"

"How long is it gonna take you and the others to get your heads out of your asses and stop acting all holier-than-thou just because he didn't join right at the start of the war?"

The temperature dropped significantly, everyone staring at the man as he calmly stared down the sputtering empire. "Excuse me?"

"How many of you wanted to fight this war?" He asked the room, looking around with a small sneer when no one would meet his or Alfred's gazes.

"I don't see-"

"None of us wanted to fight another world war; none of us want to send our people out to die by the thousands and millions because we couldn't keep our shit together long enough to talk things out and fix our problems before they became worse," Lovino grimaced and continued. "So blaming him for actually having the chance to avoid his people dying for as long as possible is not only stupid but hypocritical, because I know all of you would have jumped at the chance in his shoes."

He pushed himself up from his seat, slamming a hand on the table. "Yes, he could have come sooner, and yes, he's a bit cocky because he hasn't had to deal with this as long as we have, but he's here now, he's on our side, and he's been providing arms and goods for the rest of you for basically the entire war for dirt cheap, so stop treating him like he's a coward or an idiot for looking after his own people's needs."

Lovino exhaled sharply and sat back down, sending a reassuring smile to Alfred while everyone else sat in stunned silence.

Alfred couldn't help but send a grin and mouthed 'Thanks' back at his friend.

[3]

"Are you sure you can manage it?"

Alfred glanced up to Francis from his notes on the morning meeting. "You mean beating Russia in space?"

He put on the winning grin he was quickly learning how to fake well, because honestly? His own space program was barely off the ground while Russia was orbiting circles around him, literally and metaphorically. Not to mention his own disgrace still being snickered over behind his back, no matter how well the launch after that went.

It was hard being brave when he was terrified each day might be the last, but everyone needed him to be strong,  _needed_  him to be the hero to rally to, so he forced it all down where no one would see it.

(That probably wasn't good in the long term, but… well…)

"Of course I can!" He continued cheerfully. "He won't know what hit him!"

"But he's already put a man in space," The European pointed out. "And you've only just gotten a satellite up there."

Alfred's hand clenched in his lap, out of sight, but his smile managed to stay in place. "I'm just letting him have a head start so that he'll feel even dumber when I blow past him in a show of skill so incredible he'll have to give up forever."

"Of course," Francis replied doubtfully. "What sort of plans do you have next?"

"Well," Alfred thought over what he recalled from reports. "There's the safety launches - gonna send up maybe a chimp or something to make sure the ship holds up, then small manned launches-"

"How long will that take?" Francis asked. "Months? Years? By the time you have people in space, Russia will have sent people to the moon!"

"He's not that far ahead," Alfred countered weakly, grin cracking just a fraction.

He didn't like how the others were starting to gather around, drawn by Francis' panic over the potential issues of Soviet-controlled skies and a few even nodding along fretfully. He needed his allies to back him up in this, if for no other reason than to actually provide a united front to the Communist Block.

"Alfred, your people barely even have a space program," Arthur replied gently, though the words still stung. "And rushing things will likely only make things worse."

"My people are the best there are," Alfred started to crack a bit more. "They're organizing fast, and once everything's in place there won't be any stopping us from catching up and then getting ahead."

He glanced around, looking for support in his older allies and only finding quiet sympathy or pity. The looks left bile in his throat, and he considered then and there just dropping everything for the day and leaving until he could calm down and recenter himself.

Then Japan, the Nation he'd only a decade and a half ago bombed into horrible submission, spoke up from the edge of the crowd.

"I believe he can pull it off."

Eyes turned to the Asian man, none as surprised as Alfred, who had barely heard a word from him since the war had ended. He surely couldn't have heard that right…

"Japan?" Francis asked, eyebrow raised.

"America-san is not one to give in simply because of how difficult the path may seem," He continued, looking straight to the American as he spoke. "And even from an inferior position, he can pull off the impossible with a regularity that is almost awe inspiring. His history is full of such things, as England-san would know."

Arthur flushed and looked away, while several others glanced back to Alfred thoughtfully.

"I admit to my own hubris in facing him," Japan glanced down for a moment. "I thought he was too young, too eager to avoid conflict, so I tried to make sure he stayed that way. That… did not end well, as you might remember. I see now what I couldn't then - when he has a drive, something to push him and focus him, there is nothing out of his reach.

"I believe that Russia has provided that drive, and all he needs now is that last push to make it. I would not be surprised to see just a push come soon, either from his people or his boss, and at that point it is only a matter of how long he wishes to wait to claim victory."

Alfred wasn't the only one gaping by the end of it, but the flood of warmth and comfort at that confidence in him filled the part of him that doubted himself and shoved it away. Japan - no,  _Kiku_  - was right. He could do this - he  _would_  do this - and no one would stop him.

He started wondering how one thanked someone else in Japan - he felt it'd be useful extremely soon...

[4]

"What do you mean you can't provide aid?"

Alfred winced, glancing away from the crowd of shocked Nations. "Well, you see, the Red Cross is sorta out of money, and a lot of my other funds are wrapped up in other projects, so…"

"Typical," One of them, he couldn't see who at the moment, mumbled just within hearing range. "Can't even be bothered to help out when he has so many better things to do."

"Like start wars," Another added, a sneer in their voice. "How many are you in right now?"

The American bit his lip - he had just been trying to help people by giving them the support they needed to overthrow corrupt governments and install democracies, but that appeal had long ago lost any weight with the world. In fact, most of his support seemed to have drained away, leaving him all but alone against the unwavering force of the USSR.

Of course, his country was still holding strong, but he was starting to remember just why he had avoided the others for so long after his Revolution. He would never be good enough for these people, never the hero they'd screamed for only a few decades ago, only a nuisance.

But that was fine, right? There were plenty of heroes in the books who people didn't like, only to change their minds once he saved the day… usually. He could be strong like them, keep leading even when others had no interest in following. It was his job now, and no matter what, he had to do it, or else…

(Who else would look after his people if not him?)

"What is going on here?" Alfred looked up, seeing his brother push his way through the small crowd, stopping and staring at him once he was close enough.

"Hey Matt," He grinned weakly, forcing himself to straighten back up (and when had he started slouching? That wasn't exactly heroic). "Just some funding talks."

The Canadian didn't seem to believe him, turning to the crowd with a look flat enough to send a few reeling back on their heels. "Are you all serious? You're all complaining because he's not just handing you all more money?"

All of them shuffled in place, not eager to be the first to speak up. Matthew sighed, hands twisting and twitching at his sides.

"Alfred has spend decades and billions of dollars to get all of you back on your feet, and even forgave most of your war debts. If anything, you all owe him more cash than you can ever pay back, but you're blaming him for being stretched thin?"

He threw out his arms. "He's fighting wars, but he's also giving aid to any country who suffers a crisis - earthquake? Al's people are there. Flooding? He'll be there too. And every damn time you don't even wait a month after he's gotten you back on your feet to start gloating over his impending fall from grace, like it's some sort of game to you!"

"When was the last time any of you ever gave him aid or provided support during his own crises?" Matthew glared between them. "That's right, you never have. You expect him to help you when you have troubles, but if he's in trouble, none of you would ever lift a finger, would you? You should all be ashamed of yourselves of taking advantage of his generosity - I wouldn't blame him in the least for turning his back on you all one day and watching you all collapse under your own rot and hypocrisy."

The crowd dispersed hastily after that, all heads hung in embarrassment or shame. Matthew, still heaving from his rant, turned back to his wide eyed and silent brother, offering a tired smile.

"You want to go get some pizza and catch a movie?"

Alfred slowly found a smile stretching his lips. "Sure, that sounds good."

He didn't need to say thanks as the Canadian clapped a hand on his shoulder and started guiding him towards the front entrance - he had a good feeling Matt already knew.

[5]

Natalya had already become smitten with jeans, Alfred noted with a grin as they made their way down the street. True, she still had her older dresses she'd brought with her from Europe after the collapse of the Soviet Union, but he couldn't recall her dressing up in them lately, instead taking to the simple sets of dress shirts and jeans she'd purchased on his credit card a few months back.

For all the stories he'd heard about her and the glimpses he'd seen during and after meetings, she was hardly anything like he'd started to fear when he'd gotten the 'honor' of hosting her during her recovery.

(It was more that everyone else had been leery of keeping her close, leaving him to volunteer just to get them to stop whining about it. Seriously, no Nation he knew was ever that bad, and hearing them talk about her…

Well, he sympathized a lot.)

In reality, she was fairly nice once you got to know her. Sure, she could be blunt, and didn't take well to being treated like a little girl no matter her young appearance, but as someone who on polite days was described the same way, he hardly minded the upfront commentary from her. She, in turn, seemed to enjoy his occasional complaints about the others (sans her siblings, who she loved  _very dearly Alfred do you understand?_ ), adding in tales she'd heard of them or even witnessed due to her many years on him.

Between all that and a surprising amount of bonding over rock and roll, Alfred could safely count her in his close band of friends, which said a lot when he'd only really known her for a year as opposed to the decades or centuries with the others.

Her company was in fact enough to put off his worries about the next day's meetings, which was a double relief all things considered. Right now they were window shopping while chatting lightly, her gaze sliding from him to whatever storefront caught her eye and then back again; a relaxing spring afternoon, in other words.

Then he glanced up and noticed China and Vietnam coming the other way, caught up in their own discussion and so failing to notice his brief pause in his step. He didn't hate either of them - most of his issues with Communism had gone with the Soviets - but there was no love lost on either side.

More than content to simply step around them and avoid a fight, he stepped towards Natalya and glanced deliberately away, clenching his teeth as they got close enough to overhear exactly what they were saying.

"-absolutely no manners at all, honestly," The oldest Nation complained, waving his hand out vaguely. "And have you seen what they call 'cultural heritage'? Everything stolen from others! But what do you expect from someone raised by England…"

Alfred failed to notice Nat disappearing from his side until he saw her marching up to the Asian duo, drawing their attention as she boldly got up in China's face and slapped him.

"Don't you dare insult Alfred's people like that - what they lack in years of history they more than make up in their diversity." It was the benefit of her Slavic blood that allowed her the full abuse of her inch over him, sneering down like he couldn't be less worth her time. "He is a land of immigrants - of course his culture incorporates all of them! That's part of how he makes it his own, you fool."

She sniffled, tilting her head away just a hint in dismissal. "Then again, I doubt you would understand anything about diversity, seeing as you enjoy stamping it out where you find it."

After nodding in greeting to a stunned Vietnam, Natalya turned on her heel and walked back over to Alfred, grabbing his hand and dragging him along until they left the other two behind.

"You didn't have to do that," Alfred told her after a few flushed moments to reboot. "The others complain about it all the time - I'm used to it."

"I wanted to," Natalya told him, giving him a look that asked him if he was stupid. "He has no right to tell others how their cultures should be, and you're my friend."

She hesitated, then continued a bit more softly. "Not to mention I've wanted to slap him since he told my brother that I should be removed from active control of my government because I wasn't capable of handling the 'stresses' of modern politics back before the second World War. My brother ignored him, of course, but I was unhappy with the way he looked at me."

Alfred offered a sympathetic smile. "Old people are assholes sometimes, aren't they? But that's just why we gotta show them all why we're better than them, and make sure it sticks."

"I think I enjoy that plan," Natalya agreed after a second's thought, smiling back.

[And...]

A new summer, another meeting.

For once, Alfred found he didn't mind, having used the opportunity to catch up with his friends and hang out before the actual meeting. Between that and the lack of snarky commentary behind his back this go around, he was actually in a rather good mood so far.

They'd gotten through the first part of the meeting with only minimal distractions (ie: France and England about to start a fight before their respective neighboring seats knocked a bit of sense into them), allowing China to wrap up the Governmental Changes part of the meeting and start them on the next order of business - Food and Agriculture.

Alfred had crossed his fingers on this subject, hoping they could get through it as well without too much issue since things had been calm so far. And it almost seems that it will, more focus being on Europe and Asia and Africa than himself, and he's content to leave it there - he could handle his own problems just fine, not that they would help even if he asked.

Then, of course, Cuba side eyed him, put on that annoying little smirk that said he knew exactly what he was planning, and loudly announced that if  _only_  the Americans would stop gourging themselves like a bunch of fatasses then of  _course_  there would be more than enough to go towards feeding those in greater need.

All eyes turned towards him, several looking ready to jump to his defense while others looked ready to jump down his throat, eager for more chances to proclaim their own superiority to him.

However, this time he wasn't going to give them the chance.

"Have you guys considered that I already spend more than the rest of you on foreign aid, provide it to basically all of you,  _and_  that I'm trying to push for more in the future?"

He raised an eyebrow as he sat back, throwing out his hands. "For a bunch of guys who don't want me helping them, you sure get uppity whenever I don't provide enough aid to satisfy you all. I'm not saying I couldn't spend more on it - it's been a long fight between me and my bosses before - but acting like I never do anything for you minutes after I literally give you cash is a bit low for even you guys, don't you think?"

He glanced between the Nations, frowning. "There have been plenty of times I've considered washing my hands of you all and going back to isolationism - at least as much as I can manage in this day and age, anyways. Focusing on my own problems for a while, even as frustrating as my politicians can be, sure seems a hell of a lot nicer than dealing with a bunch of overgrown children."

More than one Nation glowered at him at the insult, but he ignored it. "Seriously, even my youngest States are more mature than you guys, and considering most of them are well under five hundred, that's saying something. And you wonder why I can't ever take these meetings seriously?"

Alfred smiled winningly. "But if you all want to keep wasting time insulting me instead of, y'know, doing our damn jobs and solving the problems we all helped cause, be my guest. I'm sure Germany will be more than understanding of your needs for petty vengeance overwhelming your decency and long term planning - after all, he's dealt with it before."

Whether they caught the underhand reference or not, many froze midway to a rant, glancing to the seat where the German Nation had been waiting, one eyebrow raised in warning when attention was directed to him. "If none of you have anything relevant to the topic to add, please sit down and allow Ukraine to finish her presentation."

They did, remaining quiet for most of the rest of the afternoon and visibly biting back their cute remarks whenever he or Ludwig shot them pointed looks. There hadn't been this peaceful and productive a meeting in years, and Alfred was looking forward to bringing it up for a long, long time after this.

(He did apologize to Ludwig later for bringing up those times, but the man waved it off, understanding the motivation and also thankful that something had gotten them to keep from dissolving into chaos for once.

He did accept the beer, though.)

**Author's Note:**

> Never wrote a 5-and-1 fic before, so it took a bit longer than I expected, especially since I realized the notes I had down didn't quite work with what flowed best so I had to rethink some sections. Ah well, I like how it came out, so yay! And Alfred needs more friends willing to stand up for him and less fics bashing him because that's just jerkish.


End file.
